Every Time I Touch That Track It Turns Into Gold
by wixley-kryptonese
Summary: Merthur. Fem!Merlin. Soulmates!AU /In a time of myth, magic and soul-marks, lived a young girl. Her name - Merlin.
1. Chapter 1

In a world of soulmates, Merlin has three.

When she was younger, she thought that was amazing. Now, as a grown – or at least nearly grown – woman, she sees the problem in that, and then of course, are her actual soul-marks. The first, most normal – meaning most like the usual words printed somewhere extremely specific on a body – was ' _What'_ in looping, obviously quite posh, but messy cursive. It was the only one she let the Mark Seers see. They said that due to the type of lettering, and language, she was looking at either a Noble or Royal, or perhaps some sort of scribe, or high-ranking servant. Or, maybe, someone who dealt in paper and ink, such as a librarian, or a rich merchant who dealt in shipment. Merlin's gut though, went with the 'Noble or Royal' quote. It made her stomach flip so much she forced herself to go to her lessons more as a teen – and eventually, take on the job as town meeting scribe.

Her second soul-mark was unusual – golden in colour, in the shape of an eye, placed on the inside of her palm. She knew it was a soul-mark because it reacted like all soul-marks should when touched by someone other than your soulmate. It burned, and _boy_ did it burn _hot_.

Merlin's third soul-mark, she kept as hidden as she could, because – oh _because_ – it wasn't a mark of a soul-mate. It was _her_.

Personal Marks were rare. Uther hunted down all sorcerers and sorceresses, and those that dealt with magic – but he hunted those with Personal Marks too. It wasn't talked about, obviously. What he did was unthinkable, so people didn't think about it. In depth at least. Unless you were crazy and wanted to die.

Her Personal Mark was amazing, in her opinion. It was a brilliant navy blue, in the shape of an explosion, symmetrical from all sides and based around her belly-button, as all Personal Marks were. What made Merlin's amazing though was the roaring dragon behind it, huge and warping, reaching around and up all the way to her shoulders, it's wings over her chest, with its tail curling around and around her leg to reach her ankle. Her mother had despaired when it appeared, and went all the way to the Isle of the Blessed in under a week right after she was born to have her Mark hidden. But eventually, Merlin grew to control that glamour, that _illusion_ , ripping it away at will and overall weakening it until only her own power kept it up.

Each of her marks are brilliant in their own way – even the plain, boring old ' _What_ ' – but as said, now she was nearly grown, Merlin could see the problems in all.

Sighing, she gripped the empty Hollyhock and Feverfew bottles tighter in her pocket, hoping the Lady Percival would get better. She had been staying with her grandfather in one of the more pleasant houses outside castle grounds until she got better, and with her extensive knowledge of Camelot's twisting paths and tunnels – coming early had been a boring godsend that had her mapping the city – she was able to reach her home pretty quickly. But she didn't want to risk being found sneaking into the castle, so she took the longer, more obvious route now. Merlin rubbed her eyes.

 _I wish I had a better nights sleep. And hadn't refused that sandwich Gaius had offered – Gods, he still thinks I'm a boy_. Merlin shook her head. It wasn't hard to keep up the pretence that she was male, far from it actually – games with Will as a child, and the last six weeks of travelling to Camelot and staying in the inn for two more made it easy – but lying had never been her strong suit. _And these bindings are too tight_. Sighing, she ducked into an alley-way, leaning against a wooden wall in the shadows before mentally giving up, pulling off her ever-present hat slash scarf that hid her long curls, wondering if it was a mistake not to cut it.

Sighing again, she unravelled the hat from itself, returning it to scarf-form, before looping it around her neck, shaking out her hair before taking off her jacket, unbuttoning it to show her blouse, tying it around her midsection and changing the colour to a dark blue that matched the smaller part of her Personal Mark. _I might as well at least try to hide the fact I have a dual identity._ With that decided, she shed the glamour that straightened her jaw and softened her features, feeling happy as her eyes pulled upwards more, feminine lashes fluttering against her skin. Glamour magic was tricky and powerful, usually, but for her it was easy as pie – though not as easy to deal with. Feeling magic against her skin oft-times felt horrid, and constricting, like she was breathing in something foreign, and disgusting.

Leaving the alley, she walked up to the castle, only for shouts caught her attention as she walked up the path. A frown graced her face as she saw a blonde man – young, maybe a knight – throwing knives at a circular target, being hefted around by a serving man she knew to be called Morris.

"I told you to keep moving!" He threw another dagger, Merlin pursing her lips angrily, cricking her fingers before approaching steadily from behind. "Come on! Run!" Morris shuffled more, the blonde throwing more daggers as Merlin pushed past his friends, tapping his shoulder. He turned.

"What?"

Having been asked that too many times to count by complete strangers, Merlin decked him, making him fall over onto the grass.

"That's enough. You've had your fun. Now get up off the grass and apologise, stranger."

The blonde gaped at her, mouth opening and closing before he scrambled up, "Do I know you?"

"No," she replied sharply, before scratching at her wrist, feeling a heat from it.

"You called me stranger." He gripped his hands tightly, gaze burning into her. "Do you not know who I am?"

"When I think about it…" she stepped forward, running a finger down his chest, "Yes, you do strike a familiar figure. My mistake."

"Yes, I think so," he puffed his chest up, grinning, only for Merlin to smirk and continue.

"Of course I know who you are. You're an ass. I think I've seen you around, kicking people down because they won't feed your impossible ego." She walked past him, only for him to grab her itching wrist, the heat immediately soothing. _Why-_

"Please, wait." Merlin made a noise of annoyance, but turned, watching as he let go of her, removing his glove clumsily, dropping it once before showing her his hand – or more specifically, the black words on the inside of his fingers spelling out ' _That's enough. You've had your fun. Now get up off the grass and apologise, stranger_ '. It took a second to kick in, before her eyes widened.

"Oh…that was…unexpected, to say the least," she breathed, voice high, before she saw his belt of daggers, being reminded of what led her to stand there. "You still have to apologise to Morris."

"Why would I? He's just a servant." The man motioned to him incredulously. Merlin's eyes flashed with anger.

"Really? So servants are nothing, then? _I_ am nothing?" She glared, before taking off the bracer on her wrist that hid her words – well, word. Showing it to him, she took his wrist, his own hand wrapping around hers – his words around hers. A momentarily unbearable heat took over both of them, before there was a small, tiny flash of light, blue and gold sparks twirling around their conjoined limbs. The man looked about to cry, before she tore her hand away, ending it.

"W-w-why would you do that?" The man asked, stricken, as people around them both gasped and muttered.

"Apologise."

"Why should I?" He gasped. "He's just a-" he stopped, hesitating, before stepping back. "I can't. I won't."

"I wouldn't if I were you. Learn a little humility, loverboy." She hissed, before turning and stalking away, putting on her bracer. _What an_ _ **ass!**_

"You can't just walk away from me!"

"Watch me!" She shouted back.

"Then be my guest! Go! Run off like a coward! Go on! Just _go!_ " He cried, before she rolled her eyes and entered the castle, slipping into a side-corridor before someone could stop her, slipping out of sight.

When her anger finally drained away, Merlin stopped, leaning against a wall with her hand to her mouth. _Gods, I just met my_ _ **soulmate.**_ And she'd pushed him away. _By the Triple Goddess, why did I do that?!_

Feeling tears come to her eyes, Merlin wiped at them furiously, only to hear a muffled shout. Quickly, she took her scarf, turning it into her 'hat', and putting on her jacket properly, focussing on her magic before using it to refresh herself and cast the masculinising glamour. Just in time, it seemed, as the blonde followed by several knights came to stop in front of her.

"Have you seen a girl pass by here?"

Merlin made a show of trying to think, "Uh, yeah, she was muttering something about this blonde prat…" she made a show of squinting at him, "Are you the prat? Cause if you are, I'll have to misdirect you. She looked pretty upset. What did you do?"

The blonde growled, taking out his sword and putting it to her neck, causing Merlin to stiffen, "Where did she go?"

"Who do you think you are?" She asked, scoffing, going to step back only for the bloody wall to get in the way. "The King?"

The blonde smirked viciously, pressing the blade harder to her throat, causing a bead of blood to well. "No. I'm his son – Arthur. Now tell me where she is, or I'll have you thrown in jail for denying the prince the location of his soulmate."

Merlin saw red.

"You stay away from her," she said roughly, bringing up her brace-covered wrist to push away his sword from her neck as an idea came to her, quick as a flash, "My _sister_ is none of your concern. If you think for one moment I would let you touch her after making her cry, you have another thing coming." _Damn, 'making her cry'? Oh, if I had a brother who said that to someone I despised, I'd kick them where it hurt._

Arthur gave him an appraising look, "You're her brother?"

Merlin made a face, "None of your business," she muttered, before starting to walk away. "Stay away from her."

"What's her name?"

Merlin stumbled. _Holy gods on high._ "Uh, uh, her name…" she stumbled, trying to think of something she'd react to if he somehow caught her taking a break from being a boy. A second later it came to her. "Call her Dragon." Her mother had called her that all her life. She'd react to that.

"Dragon?" Arthur sounded incredulous, "Her name is actually Dragon?"

Merlin paused. _Right…Dragon isn't a proper name for a girl, unless you're a druid…_ "No, it's a nickname. That's why I said _call_ her Dragon. If you can get her forgiveness, maybe she'll tell you the truth." The whole truth – about pretending to be a boy so she could become her great uncle Gaius' apprentice and safely travel along the roads, and about her magic, and about her strange soul-marks. Swallowing, Merlin started making her way through the corridor again, in the direction of Gaius' tower – only for another call to stop her.

"What's your name?"

Her heart thudded in her chest.

"My name is Merlin." Then, she escaped.


	2. Chapter 2

" _Merlin…Merlin…_ "

Merlin sat up in bed, head cocking. Was she dreaming or did she hear someone calling her name…

" _Merlin…_ "

"Not dreaming," she muttered, before getting out of bed and tugging off her sleep-shirt, wincing at the bruises from her bindings, and then trying to keep herself from crying out in pain as she retied them, only letting out a whimper as she heard the whisper again. "I'm coming, shush now…"

Dressing and tying her hair into a braid, Merlin made sure there was a glamour holding over all her soul-marks – including Arthur's one, just to be safe – before opening her door, undoing all the locks she kept on it – both mundane and magical – and making her way downstairs. In the healing rooms, Gaius was asleep on the bed that should have been hers, if Gaius hadn't cared more about her – _him_ – than himself. Bare feet silent on the cold floor, she made sure not to bang into anything as she got to the centre of the room, but hesitated upon seeing his covers down. Smiling slightly, she used a dash of magic to pull them up over his form, before leaving.

Following the whispers were surprisingly easy though, so it didn't take very long before she came to where two guards were playing bets. It was childsplay to lead them away so she could go down the tall set of stairs, not taking a torch in case they counted. Going down the stairwell, she relied on her senses, until she stepped on a rock and grimaced. _What if I could conjure a light?_ She'd never done it before – light was different from fire. Merlin stopped, glancing up the stairs.

 _Why didn't I just take a fireball from the grate?_ Rolling her eyes at her own stupidity, Merlin held out her hand, shutting her eyes before focusing on what she wanted. _Light, please, let me bring light to this darkness_. There was a whiteness behind her eyelids, subtle but enough – and then she felt the tiny tug on her magic, draining it less than controlling fire did. Opening her eyes, she smiled at the sight of a white ball of light, smaller than a baby potato. Cupping it in her hands, she started down the stairs again, humming to herself as she heard the whispers increase, all in that deep, bass voice.

Eventually, she came to the end of the stairs, where there was a stone ledge full of rocks that hurt her bare feet. But what she saw took her breath away.

"You're a dragon," Merlin's eyes were wide as she let the light in her palms fade, stepping forward to the edge of the platform. Huge and mighty, with golden scales that covered it from head to toe, the dragon took her breath away – and then she saw its eyes, a bright, unforgettable gold that she saw every time she looked at her hand. "You!"

"Merlin, it is an honour to finally meet you," the dragon bowed its head, baring its teeth in a warped, twisted version of a smile, "How small you are for such a great destiny."

"Destiny? What do you mean? What destiny? And what is your name?" It leant forwards, eyes closing. In reply, she took the glamours off her hand, reaching out without thinking. As soon as they touched, a light burst from them, rippling over everything until it ran back to them both, filling Merlin's eyes with gold before the eye on her hand slowly closed. "What was _that?_ "

"That was our souls joining. Our lives are now tied together. If I die, so do you. We are Dragon and Dragonlord, a paired set, nearly the last of our kinds. Your powers were awoken from deep within due to our bond, before your father passed, which in some ways is good – the gift could be passed to more than just one. Though it is indeed unusual for a witch to gain the powers of a Dragonlord – it is passed from father to son." The dragon pulled away finally, getting comfortable on his rock. "But as to your destiny…it is your gift, Merlin. Your gift of magic. It was given to you for a reason."

Merlin's eyes widened, "So there is a reason…what is it? And what is your name?" She asked insistently, fists clenching.

The dragon looked at her with twinkling eyes, "I think you know as well as I what my name is."

It was like a poke to her subconscious, bringing forth a group of hundreds upon hundreds of runes – _dragon runes. Kilgharrah._

"Kilgharrah," she repeated aloud, relishing the feel of his name on her tongue. "Your name means strength."

"And prophecy, and age, and time, and many others."

Merlin swallowed, before bringing her chin up slightly, "So what of my destiny?"

"Arthur is the Once and Future King who will unite the land of Albion."

Merlin looked at him sceptically in an instant, "Right."

"But he faces many threats from friend and foe alike."

"I don't see how this has to do with me unless Arthur gets his head out of his arse," she replied honestly.

"Everything," Kilgharrah stated firmly, "Without you, Arthur will never succeed. Without you, there _will be_ no Albion."

"No." Merlin shook her head, feeling her anger well up again, "No, Kilgharrah, you have to have this wrong. Arthur is- Arthur's my soulmate, but he's an _ass_. A prat! I can't help him, I refuse!"

Kilgharrah looked solemn, "There is no right or wrong, only what is and what isn't."

"But I'm serious!" She exclaimed, incredulous. "I will not _help_ Arthur do _anything_ – you must have the wrong Arthur, because this one's an _idiot!_ "

"Perhaps it is your destiny to change that, human mine."

"Well, _dragon mine_ ," she spoke in an angry, sarcastic tone, "If anyone wants to go and kill him, they can go ahead! In fact, I'll give them a bloody hand!"

Kilgharrah immediately roared, terrifying her as rocks under his claws rumbled. "None of us can choose our destiny, Merlin, and none of us can escape it! You have the choice out of one of three paths! In one, Arthur's soulmate disappears, and he finds happiness elsewhere, in another woman and places the Queen's crown on _her_ head! You are nothing but a manservant, who eventually watches Arthur die after the battle of Camlin, never revealing yourself _once!_ You then live, immortal, for centuries, when all soul-ties, all magic but yourself are _gone_ and you _live through it all, **alone**_ , until Arthur is finally reincarnated, and you lead him to glory with all the memories of your past years on your shoulders!"

"Kilgharrah, stop-" Merlin pleaded weakly.

"In another, you live out a _ridiculous_ double life for years and years, filled with lies and treachery, until you are banished from Camelot with the heir of Pendragon in your womb! In _that_ future, your daughter would return to the land of her father, where Arthur rules as a king who is worse than Uther ever was, and she dies at his hand because he is too blind to see! You returned looking for vengeance, but instead of killing Arthur, you changed him so irreversibly, you changed him _back to the way he was_ – but then no-one could recognise him! His looks, his demeanour! You made him what he was, but no-one but Arthur thanked you for it! Then the battle of Camlin happened, with Arthur, you and the druids against the warped knights of Camelot, and the _same_ fate awaited you from the first future!"

"STOP!" She screamed, tears running down her cheeks, "Please, _stop!_ "

Kilgharrah calmed, though his eyes were still angry. "The third future, you became Queen of Camelot, after leading a short double-life. You made friends, you made a family – and then you were felled in the Battle of Camlin, leaving behind Arthur with Albion rallying at his command."

Merlin shook her head, "No, I- just _no_ , Kilgharrah. You say all these things, tell stories of days yet to come, that could never come – but you forget the reason why those exist. Instead of whatever you were trying to accomplish today, you've convinced me instead that I'm powerful enough to change it. I make my own destiny, dragon mine." She turned, stumbling out of the cave system, mind haunted by what she'd just heard.

And that was when Kilgharrah grinned.


End file.
